


On Three

by oceaxe



Series: Drabbles from Arthur/Eames Last Drabble Writer Standing 2017 [5]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 23:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13534491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceaxe/pseuds/oceaxe
Summary: Arthur and Eames come together, on the count of three.





	On Three

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Arthur/Eames Last Drabble Writer Standing Nonelimination Round 2017. Prompt was "same story told from both points of view." I fudged this one a little bit- it's the story of how they fall in love, and the POV shifts from section to section.
> 
> I also titled the sections here, which throws off the word count.

_run_

 

Running was Arthur’s best stress reliever. He ran occasionally when at home in Chicago, but he ran every day on a job like this. He hadn’t realized Eames’ ran, but that was classic Eames—always full of surprises. Eames jogged up to where Arthur jogged in place waiting for the red light, his breath coming a little heavy, his skin rosy and glistening. 

“Friendly race to the bodega?” he asked, gesturing down the street. Arthur’s lips quirked in spite of himself. 

“You’re so hosed; I’m like the wind,” he bragged as the walk signal counted down to green. 

Eames raised an eyebrow at him and Arthur nodded, bracing himself.

“On three?” 

 

_shoot_

 

Eames reached out to stop Arthur entering the hallway, where the projections were going berserk. Predictably, Arthur tried to shake him off. So fucking bloodyminded, Eames thought—could never accept that sometimes jobs went sideways no matter how thorough the planning. 

“Not worth it, Arthur,” he rasped, clutching his side. “I got enough from the mark, we’ll still get paid at least half our fee.” 

“It’s bad for business, Eames,” Arthur bit out, then turned gray, slumping against the wall. Eames’ heart clenched. At some unknown point, his concern for Arthur had gone beyond aesthetic and professional admiration and crossed the line to—well, just crossed the bloody line. 

“Gonna shoot you out, love,” he slurred, aiming his gun. Arthur grimaced and nodded, aiming his own at Eames in a very atypical surrender. “On three?”

 

_come_

 

Arthur couldn’t believe that Eames was here, finally. The last three months, between that fateful drunken sext to Eames’ brief imprisonment in Latvia, had been a violent seesaw between rapture and torture. He’d given up hope of seeing Eames again, until he’d shown up, drenched and exhausted, and fallen sideways onto Arthur’s credenza. 

Now, a day later, writhing underneath him, Eames was rosy and glistening as Arthur fucked down onto Eames’ thick cock. Their breath came heavy between them, panting into each others’ mouths when Arthur leaned in to graze those lips with his own. 

Shuddering with need, Arthur found himself drawn into a frantic pace, Eames clutching spastically at his hips. They were so close. 

“I’m—oh God, Arthur, I’m going to...”

“Me too,” Arthur growled.

“Let’s—can we…”

“On three.”

 

_declare_

 

Eames grabbed Arthur’s hand and dragged him to the door, heart racing. He knew, deep in his soul, that Arthur was going to love this, but he still had butterflies in his stomach. Arthur turned to him, his eyebrow raised.

“It’s on the street,” Eames said. 

“Whatever could it be,” Arthur drawled, but Eames could hear the happy anticipation in his voice.

“As always, too clever for your own good,” he murmured in Arthur’s ear as the door swung open.

“Where is—” Arthur stopped abruptly as he registered the vintage Triumph motorcycle parked at the kerb. “Oh my _god_ , Eames.”

“Happy birthday,” Eames said. “I—” The rest of what he wanted to say stuck in his throat. Arthur beamed at him.

“Let’s say it together.”

“On three.”


End file.
